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BACKGROUND TO THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM.
     
         The Fall of Quebec

In 1759, General James Wolfe, was in command of the largest 
British naval force ever to cross the Atlantic. Assisting Wolfe 
were Brigadiers General Robert Monckton, James Murray, and 
George Townsend. The flotilla had forty-nine men-of-war, fully 
one-quarter of the entire Royal Navy, plus two hundred transports, 
storage vessels, and provision ships. 

This large fleet was commanded by three admirals, Saunders, 
Holmes, and Durrell. Its chief navigator was Captain James Cook, 
the future explorer of the pacific. Nearly nine thousand soldiers 
were carried in the transports.

After making stopovers at Halifax and Louisbourg to pick up 
several hundred North American Rangers and the Louisbourg 
Grenadiers, the fleet sailed for the St. Lawrence in mid-June. 
After rounding the Gaspé Peninsula, it entered the mouth of the 
mighty river.

The ship's crews were to be tested as the fleet neared the Isle 
aux Coudres forty miles below Quebec. At this point, the river 
narrows, becoming swifter and treacherous. Shallows, sandbars,
and submerged rocks become a hazard for ships. The French Navy 
feared the place and had stationed pilots on the island to guide 
ships through the channel. Only one ship at a time, sailed past 
the Isle aux Coudres.

So it was that when French lookouts at the pilot station saw 
several ships appear, they paddled out to meet them. They were 
captured by the British, who had been flying the colours of 
France.

Once captured, they were given the choice of hanging or guiding 
the ships through the channel. They then agreed to help, but 
several British captains thought it best to sail through on 
their own. They had sailed English waters far more treacherous 
than these!

On June 26, the fleet anchored off the Island of Orleans, 
located in the St. Lawrence River, three miles below the Quebec. 
About sunset, forty rangers, under command of Lt. Meech, made 
the first reconnaissance of the island. Upon entering the woods, 
they came across a larger party of Canadians, and managed to 
find shelter in a cabin, where they remained until landing 
parties were put ashore and the island was secured.

During the following days, General Wolfe set up his main camp on 
the Montmorency, across from Montcalm's trenches. On the 30th of 
June, Brigadier General Robert Monckton, captured Point Lévis, 
taking it after a short fight. He set up his own camp there and 
moved the artillery into position. From this most commanding 
position, the artillery was able to lay a deadly fire on Quebec 
less than a mile away. The British cannon fired every day. Shot 
rained down on Quebec day after day, and night after night.

Bands of Canadians and Indians, mostly Abenaki, haunted the 
woods around Monkton's batteries. Sentries were knifed and 
scalped. Patrols were ambushed and mutilated. But soon these 
guerrilla tactics backfired. 

The redcoats now longer panicked at thought 
of Indians, the rangers had taught them better. They now turned 
their jackets inside out and dubbed the linings with clay. They 
had darkened their gun barrels, and took to the woods in small 
groups. Before long the Indians were complaining that the 
redcoats no longer stood still and allowed themselves 
to be killed. Wolfe also issued orders allowing his men to 
scalp Indians and French dressed as Indians.

Quebec itself, was a natural fortress. The Lower Town, with its 
homes, warehouses, and docks, lay along the riverside. The Upper 
Town was perched atop the bluffs. Here was the governor's palace, 
cathedral, hospital, and citadel. Steep, narrow streets 
connected both sections of the city.

Steep cliffs two hundred feet high stretched unbroken for miles 
on either side of the city. No paths led from the riverbank 
to the Plains of Abraham at the top. Here and there, a few 
men could climb the cliffs by holding onto rocks 
and bushes. But a few determined men at the top could 
hold off an army.


Rivers enclosed Quebec to the east. The Cap Rouge River flowed 
between cliffs and high, wooded banks until it joined the 
St. Lawrence west of the city. To the east, Quebec was protected 
by the St. Charles River, it's mouth blocked by a boom of logs 
bound with chains and anchored in place. Beyond, the cliffs 
overlooked a stretch of land known as the Beauport shore. 
Beauport stretched for six miles, ending at 
the Montmorency, a swift river that ran through 
a steep gorge and tumbled over an eighty-foot falls 
where it joined the St. Lawrence.


Montcalm had ordered trenches dug along the cliffs from the 
St. Charles to the Montmorency. Cannon were placed at 
key points on the cliffs and in the town, so as to make 
passage upriver almost impossible. Colonel de Bougainville 
was stationed with a thousand men near Cape Rouge to deal 
with any English who managed to slip past the batteries 
and come ashore. 

Montcalm would not have to fight to win, by simply holding 
on, avoiding an all out fight until winter drove the invaders 
away would work just fine . To remain until October, 
would mean trapping the fleet when the St. Lawrence 
froze over. Wolfe on the other hand, had to force 
Montcalm to fight, either by tricking him down, or 
by scaling the cliffs.

It was with this desperate position that Wolfe 
gave the orders to raise the farms to the south 
of Quebec. Rangers, Highlanders and light infantry, 
were sent out on both sides of the St. Lawrence, 
burning houses, barns and stables. The inhabitants were 
forced to flee to Quebec. All the villages from Riviére 
Ouelle to L'Islet were reduced to ashes. Even a few churches 
were destroyed, though Wolfe ordered they be spared. 

Montcalm, watching all this from his headquarters at Beauport, 
dispatched a few parties to interceded, but refused to let these 
cruelties draw his army from the walls of Quebec. He had no 
choice but to be satisfied that things would go his way. 
Though his heart went out to the people of the parishes, 
his best option was to let Wolfe bombard Quebec and burn 
villages, for every day Wolfe failed to bring him into battle 
was a day closer to winter and victory.


Wolfe knew this and decided upon a desperate gamble. He had 
noticed that the French had gun batteries at several points 
along the shore above the high water line. At low tide, mud 
flats as much as a half mile wide were exposed from the Beauport 
shore to the mouth of the Montmorency, where the water was 
waist-deep for a few hours each day. His plan was to have troops 
rowed across from the Island of Orleans and landed on the mud 
flats. The first wave would be the grenadiers, elite units 
trained to throw grenades. At the same time other regiments 
of troops would wade across the Montmorency from the main camp. 
He hoped Montcalm would come down from his trenches to save the 
batteries. This would allow Wolfe to draw him into a battle.

On July 30, the first wave of 800 grenadiers rowed toward the 
shore. But submerged rocks kept the boats from reaching land, 
forcing the men to wade ashore under heavy French fire. It 
became a hellish dash for land, musket balls fell like rain, 
and many men were ripped apart by the deadly cannonballs. Those 
who made shore were overcome by a type of madness. In fear and 
desperation, they attacked a French battery with their bayonets 
fixed. The artillerymen who failed to run, were skewered where 
they stood.

Soon the second wave landed and formed ranks. Drummers taped out
the charge, followed by a band playing "The Grenadiers March". 
Now the Grenadiers became enraged. Screaming, they ran past 
their officers, and began scaling the cliffs. After a moment of 
shock, the French began to fire volley after volley down the 
slope. The brave grenadiers began dieing by the dozens, their 
bodies falling to the beach below.

All the while, the black clouds of a summer storm were gathering
overhead. A blinding downpour soon began, wetting everyone's 
powder. The cliff side soon became cataract of muddy water. 
The grenadiers lost their grip, sliding down upon their fallen 
comrades. With the rain, there was nothing could be done, but 
to fall back. A retreat was then sounded by the drummers. As 
the English troops began to fall back to their boats, Indians 
came down the cliffs to scalp the dead and wounded. At the end 
of the day, the English counted 443 men, were reported, killed, 
wounded, or missing. The French camp on the other hand, believed
the battle for Quebec was surly over.

This defeat was devastating to Wolfe, he became worried that 
his health would not allow him time to find a way to win. After 
several weeks of worry, nervous strain, and sleeplessness, he 
was confined to bed with a high fever. Wolfe realised his time 
was short, and after ten days in bed, he rose. On August 29, he 
called a meeting of his senior officers, in order to decide how 
Quebec could be taken. They recommended a landing above Cape 
Rouge, about 25 miles west of the city. The area was lightly 
defended and offered the best chance of climbing the cliffs in 
safety. Once on top, they would cut the French supply line to 
Quebec. Montcalm must then fight to reopen the roads or starve.

Wolfe accepted their plan and put it into operation. 
He evacuated the camp on the Montmorency and concentrated 
his army at Point Lévi. Each night, Admiral Saunders manoeuvred 
a few ships upriver, past the batteries at Quebec, until 
he had a squadron of twenty vessels west of the city. 
Each day the squadron drifted downstream with the 
ebb tide, as if searching for a place to land. 
Then each night it rode upstream on the flood tide. 
This soon forced Bougainville's detachment, now at a strength 
of three thousand, to follow along the cliffs. 
The idea was to tire the French, and get them used to 
seeing English ships that never attacked. When the 
French became overconfident, the attack would occur.

Wolfe had in the meantime made an important discovery. He 
had found a inlet two miles west of Quebec with an 
overgrown path winding up the cliff face. The top 
was guarded by a company of Canadian militia under 
Captain Duchambon de Vergor. It was here that Wolfe found 
the soft underbelly of Quebec's defences. This secret 
Wolfe kept to himself until the moment of action, telling no one.

At 2:00 A.M., Thursday, 13 September, 1759, a procession 
six miles long drifted downstream on the ebb tide. 
Wolfe rode in the lead whaleboat with Captain William 
Delaune, commander of "The Forlorn Hope". It was to 
be these twenty-four men, all volunteers, were the 
pathfinders who would lead the way up the cliff and 
silence the French sentries at the top.

Behind Wolfe's longboat, were others carrying the Highlanders, 
and light infantry who would secure the beachhead. 
Behind them came the remaining transports with 
a second wave, artillery, and supplies. The rest of the army 
waited at Point Lévi. Once the first wave was 
ashore, they would cross.

There was no moon, and the advance boats moved silently, with 
padded oarlocks, over the black water. At about a quarter mile 
from the landing point, a French sentry called out "Qui vive?". 
Stunned, the men set silent, but almost a once a
Highlander responded in perfect French "Français! Et vive 
le roi !, France!" And long live the king! With 
this, they continued on their way. Now the Cove, 
since known as Wolfe's Cove, lay just ahead. As the assault 
team splashed ashore, navel cannon fire erupted from 
the east. British frigates stood on station from 
Quebec to Beauport, firing with every gun. It was hoped 
this would direct all French attention to the city.

The landing party, led by Captain Delaune, jumped on onto the 
sand, and advanced to the cliff. Then, with muskets 
strapped to their backs, the men scrambled up 
the path, using clumps of grass for leverage. Stones, being 
dislodged by the men clattered down the cliff, and 
the soldiers prayed the French could not hear. 
Soon, winded, hands and knees scraped by rocks, Delaune's 
men cleared the top of the cliff. The white of French 
tents could just be seen outlined against the dark 
background.

Once formed, they opened fire, taking the French by complete 
surprise. They rushed the French sentries, who fired 
and the fell back towards the tents. Captain Vergor,
being awakened by the shots, rushed out with about thirty men, 
to form a defence.  He had earlier sent most of his 
men home to gather in the crops! A picket of light 
infantry which had landed, came to aid the volunteers. Vergor 
was caught between them, but all but one of his 
men escaped by running through the brush. Captain 
Vergor, was shot through the foot, while 
attempting his escape.

At the cheers from the advance party, the remaining light 
infantry men started up the cliff, General Wolfe was 
with them. It was 5:00 A.M. when he reached the top. 
Meanwhile, the fusillade had been heard at the battery at 
Samas, which opened a heavy fire on the English ships. 
As the first light of dawn approached, the second 
wave of troops were in route to the landing point, under 
this heavy cannon fire. Colonel Howe was now dispatched 
with some light infantry, to capture the batteries. 
These two artillery garrisons, being assaulted by superior 
forces and near being surrounded, retreated towards 
Cap Rouge.

As soon as the regiments reached the top, they were marched to 
their assigned positions. The left wing extended 
towards Sillery, the right in the direction of 
Quebec, the whole line facing the St. Louis road. Before 
them stretched a broad, flat strip of land leading to 
the walls of Quebec. Here at last were the Plains of 
Abraham! The Plains of Abraham were named for the early 
Canadian settler, Abraham Martin, who had first 
cleared the land. This plateau is about three-quarters 
of a mile wide, bounded on the right by a steep cliff which at
the foot of, flows the St. Lawrence River. On the left, 
it is bounded by the Cóte St. Geneviéve, below which 
the river St. Charles meanders. The two cliffs meet over a mile 
to the east, at Cape Diamond. In front of the plateau lies a 
slight ravine.

Montcalm was making his morning rounds, when a messenger brought 
a note from Governor Vaudreuil. The general had heard 
the cannonade from the ships, but had gone to bed 
when no attack had occurred. Now he would learn the truth. 
Patrols had spotted the British on the Plains of Abraham. 
He rode in the direction of the plains, and saw an 
awful sight. It was not yet 7:00 A.M., but in the distance, 
long double lines of the infantry stretched across 
the plains. 

They were standing motionless as a soft rain fell. The morning 
breeze carried the sound of bagpipes. With the 
English on the plains, there were no options but to fight.

At 9:30 A.M., Wolfe walked along the ranks, talking to the 
troops, and giving his final orders. Canadian and 
Indian sharpshooters appeared at the edge of the woods 
and began sending bullets his way. One captain, standing 
next to him, was hit in the chest. Wolfe kneeled and 
held him in his arms, promising a promotion when the 
fighting was over. Shortly after standing again, Wolfe, 
himself received a musket ball in the wrist, shattering 
it. An aid wrapped it with a handkerchief, and Wolfe 
continued as if nothing had happened.

By this time, the French regulars were forming their lines near 
the walls of Quebec. They formed up in three lines 
as they arrived. Militia formed the two wings, 
regiments of the line in the centre, the Royal Roussillon 
near the river, then those of Guyenne, Béarn, Languedoc 
and La Sarre. Major Dumas commanded the largest 
party of Canadians on the right. Some pieces of artillery were 
brought out. Once formed, Montcalm, in a uniform 
of green and gold, rode along the ranks encouraging 
his men. "Are you tired? ", he joked. Cheers and laughter 
rose from the men. "Are you ready my children?" another 
cheer arose. With this he raised his sword, 
and gave the signal to advance.

Wolfe was happy for the first time in months, finally he 
had his chance to take Quebec! He started back down 
the line when he was struck by a shell fragment. The 
shot had ripped into his abdomen, but still he kept his feet, 
staggering for only a moment. Somehow, he then 
gathered himself up and returned to his place by the 
grenadiers. 

On Montcalm's orders, French began their charge. The French 
army advanced, three rows deep, with Canadians and 
Indians on their flanks. They held their fire until 
they were within one hundred yards of the British lines. 
But their lines became broken while crossing the 
ravine, due to the rough ground. The opening volley 
was fired strangely by all three lines at once, with little 
affect on the British line. Now the firing became 
ragged and scattered, the men firing and reloading 
on the run.

Wolfe's troops stood still as death, the only moment, when a 
man fell and was replaced by another. They stood 
with their muskets shouldered, and their bayonets 
fixed. The French were now only seventy-five yards away, 
more Redcoats fell. Now, on command, the first rank 
dropped to one knee. Both ranks levelled their weapons, 
each of which were loaded with double ball, at the advancing 
French line. Fifty yards, now the French were 
close enough to count the buttons on their coats, hear 
the tramp of their shoes.

At forty yards, Wolfe gave the order to fire. One great volley, 
with a sound like a thunder clap exploded. The 
opening volley was devastating. A deep cut appeared 
in the first rank. Screams of anguish could be heard through 
the haze of smoke that drifted over the enemy. The 
English reloaded, and taking twenty paces forward, fired 
again.

Both armies were than advancing, and the fight was short, but 
intense. The two French commanders of the La 
Sarre and Guyenne regiments, Senezergues and Fontbonne, 
were mortally wounded, as was the second in command on the 
right, M. St. Ours. Then Lieutenant Colonel Privat, 
of the Languedoc regiment was critically wounded. 
Adjutant Malartic had two horses shot from under him. Montcalm, 
ran from one point to another trying to rally 
his men.

The last volleys were fired with the two armies mere feet apart! 
With this final hail of musket balls, the French 
lines were broken. Those that survived the volley, 
were dazed and shaken. The shattered bodies of the dead and wounded 
littered the ground. Wolfe gave the order to 
charge. The British bayonet charge caused the 
French centre to give way, and the whole army began to turn to 
the rear. Those that were able, were forced to 
ran for their lives. The redcoats set off in 
pursuit of the fleeing French, they would finish them with bayonet. 

The Canadians fell back, but then rallied in some places. In the 
little woods on the right, they held back part 
of the British regulars for a time. Indians 
and Canadians were not offered a chance to surrender, memories 
of William Henry were still fresh, French officers 
though were sometimes spared. 

Wolfe was leading the grenadiers when a bullet hit him in the 
chest, puncturing both lungs. Two soldiers ran to his aid, but 
he was beyond help. They carried him to cover, and propped him up. 
It was at this moment, someone yelled "see how they run". Wolfe 
opened his eyes an asked "who runs?", a soldier replied, 
"The French run sir". With this it is said, Wolfe replied, 
"Now God be praised, I die in peace", and closed 
his eyes forever.

Montcalm, meanwhile, had been swept along in those attempting 
to regain the horn work, or towards the city in panic. He was 
riding among his men, trying to rally some companies in front 
of the St. Louis Gate, when two bullets passed through his body. 
In rapid secession he received one in the groin, a fatal wound, 
and one in the thigh.  He asked two soldiers to hold him up in 
the saddle, so as not to cause more panic. Thus he rode 
through the St. Louis Gate, to the surgeon. He was there informed 
that he had but hours to live. He replied " So much the better, 
I shall not see the surrender of Quebec". He died early the 
next morning and was buried in a shell hole in the convent of 
the Urseline nuns. Wolfe's body was returned to England for 
hero's funeral. 

Governor Vaudreuil, had just reached a point near the heights, 
when his regiment came in contact with the British and was soon 
defeated. He tried in vain to rally his fleeing troops, with 
only a few militia going to the aid of those fighting in 
the woods on the St. Foy road.
 

The Highlanders charged with their backswords held high. Anyone 
in their path failing to flee, died instantly, until they reached 
the edge of the woods, where they were halted by a hail of musket 
fire. After they made several attempts to dislodge the Canadians, 
the Highlanders were forced to fall back and regroup on the 
St. Lawrence road.

There, they were reinforced by the Anstruther regiment and the 
second battalion of Royal Americans. They then advanced to the 
edge of the St. Geneviéve hill, attacking the woods from the rear, 
and then cleared the Canadian sharpshooters from the cliff edge. 

The Canadians made a final stand in the military bakery, which 
stood in the centre of the valley, surrounded by several houses. 
Outnumbered, and desperate, the Canadians managed to hold the 
British regiments in check for a long while. Thus, delaying the 
British advance, they saved many refugees, and gained time for 
the French army retreat to the horn- work. This brave action cost 
the loss of almost every man killed on the spot, and broke what 
remained of French resistance.

With the English in control of the heights, Montcalm dying, and 
the French army demoralised, Governor Vaudreuil, for now, had to 
abandon Quebec, leaving it's people to the conquerors.


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